The Labyrinth
by istoleyourcheesecake
Summary: It troubles Leon greatly. When Cloud returns to his friends in Hollow Bastion, how can he not feel wronged? How come had they managed to recover yet another friend from Darkness, yet Leon didn't even know whether or not his were still alive? He would give anything to know. Oh Leon, one shouldn't make such reckless promises... Someone might hear you. A new horror arc for Halloween!
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hi y'all! First of all, a couple of things I'd like to point out in order for this story to make more sense. Firstly, it flips the ending of FFVIII around and practically ignores everything that happened after the final boss fight. It assumes Squall got thrown from the Time Compression into the Kingdom Hearts universe, into Radiant Garden before it fell into Darkness. Thus, whatever the difference between the ages of Squall and Leon is, he's spent that time in the KH universe. But since the FF and KH timelines are a royal mess, I'll have to bend a few things a little. Maybe. I'll see how it goes. But probably the assumption is that whatever major plot events have taken place in the original FF games are most likely going to adhere to the present story as well, and of course everything stated by the KH timeline.**

**Happy Halloween, guys!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Final Fantasy nor Kingdom Hearts characters.**

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><p>"Show not what has been done, but what can be. How beautiful the world would be if there were a procedure for moving through labyrinths."<p>

- Umberto Eco, _The Name of the Rose_

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><p><span><strong>Part 1<strong>

Desperate fingers clawed into the slick steel, in vain. The legs struggled to gain some sort of support, but the surface was too slippery to find steadier footing. The unending darkness rushed closer by the second. And there was nothing he could do to stop the glide.

As his limbs did their best to grab a hold of something, anything, to stop the slide, his eyes frantically scanned the nearing pit and the walls around.

'Comoon!' he thought. 'Comoon, it has to be there!'

His stomach turned as his eyes briefly wandered to glance into the black bowels of the pit. He could see them already – the hungry eyes of the satans, the voracious glares fixed on him.

'There!' A flicker of hope burst in his heart as he finally made out the features of the handle, standing out from the rust-covered wall just above the pit.

He struggled to force his feet underneath him and supported his weight in the air with his hands. In the crab position, he watched in growing terror as the darkness neared, clenched his teeth, and at the last estimated moment, he pushed himself off of the steel, and leaped.

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><p>Leon had never been prone to jealousy. He looked at life humbly. "Appreciate the little things. Be happy with what you're given." Material things had never mattered to him. The only things he had ever truly held dear he hid into his heart and treasured them in secret.<p>

But as he observed from the sidelines how his comrades now smothered the silent blond, their eyes beaming, smiles on their faces and laughter and greetings on their tongues, he couldn't help bitter green eating away at him.

They all loved him; Leon knew they had been searching for him all this time. Cid, Aerith, Yuffie – they all adored the enigmatic man, loved him, despite his introverted atmosphere and reluctant character. They were all hugging him, showering him with affectionate touches the blond had trouble responding to. To them, the man had been so lost for so long they had already been on the brink of losing hope. But now they had gotten yet another one of their former comrades returned to them from Darkness.

What had Leon got?

A wave of not belonging rushed over him as he silently observed the others. At that small moment, he hated them all. The loving Aerith and her gentle affection; ever the grump Cid and his never-ending chain-smoking; the loudmouth ninja-wannabe; and him. The tragic hero himself. Leon's eyes narrowed at the blond. Not wanting to, Leon couldn't help thinking the blond had been given everything. His light, his friends, his family. All the things that had been ripped away from Leon – from _Squall_ – had been returned to Cloud instead. How can you not be jealous of that?

An angry hiss slipped out from between Leon's clutched teeth; he tore his gaze away from his rejoicing comrades. Technically he had no right to be angry, it wasn't their _fault_. They weren't the ones to plunge his world – or any other, for that matter – into Darkness, and Leon had no right to loathe them for managing to retrieve their friends while he himself had failed. The warrior suddenly felt embarrassed of his emotions getting the better of him. Right or no right, he couldn't help just feeling so wronged! Now that he looked at them, reunited again and so _happy_... he felt empty. Why hadn't Leon found even traces of any of his friends – hell, family – from Before?! Why had the others received yet another of theirs?!

_Leon didn't remember exactly what had happened. He remembered being a fighter in his world, in Before. There had been a great battle, a vicious war he had been fighting in. He had had friends, comrades, fighting alongside him. If only he recalled the name... Ulti... mate? Ultim... mecia? Ultimecia. That's what the threat had been called. He remembered fighting her in this weird place. It had been like a separate dimension that bent the rules of the natural world to create an illusion, a ruthless caricature of normalcy. He remembered the fearful expressions of his friends, and the air of dread as they had engaged into the battle... He couldn't remember the battle itself, nor the outcome nor the aftermath. It was nothing but a blur of flashes of people and places he had once known. It was like walking in an unending fog. Leon remembered feeling like he would walk forever._

_He couldn't remember how he had arrived to Radiant Garden. He woke up in a bed. The first thing he remembered seeing was a woman's, Aerith's, delighted yet concerned eyes. He had been told he had been found collapsed at the outskirts of Garden. He had been sleeping for a week, and they had started to think he might never wake up. They also told him they had found no-one else._

Emotions getting the best of him, Leon quietly turned his back to the cheerful party. He couldn't look at them. Not without feeling a vehement rage of jealousy. Without uttering a sound, he walked away at a steady pace and exited the Library thru the other door. They didn't follow him. He descended the stairs and crossed the main lobby to the great doors. As he got out of the now grim-looking castle, he stopped to lean against the heavy door for a slow exhale, then pushed himself of and kept walking.

He vaguely noticed he was wandering towards the lift that would take him to the Rising Falls. Shrugging a little, he kept going. It would be as good as any place. Whatever.

The rational part of him tried to convince him he was being unreasonable. He had no right to be envious of his friends' rejoicing. They had every right to feel happy for recovering a lost comrade from Darkness. Leon, much as he wanted to, couldn't deny them that.

Unfortunately, the heart and the reason only seldom collaborate. Leon's jaw tightened as the joyous expressions of Aerith and the others pushed their way into his mind, only to be replaced with the tear-stained and terrified faces of his former comrades. Especially he remembered the trembling lip of a teenage girl with thick brown hair and round facial features. She had muttered something to him – if only he could remember... Had he known it would be the last time he would see her, he would have committed her final words to memory.

'If only I knew what happened to them,' Leon thought, and had to fight back the hot moisture that had gathered in the corners of his eyes. 'Are they all maybe still out there somewhere? How come only I found a way out of there? … No! It can't be! They _are _still out there, I know it. All of them, I know they're out there.'

He got off the lift to stroll to sit on the edge of the floating pedestal. Idly gazing at the Rising Falls, he leaned his back against a broken pillar and relaxed.

'If only I knew what happened to them,' he thought. 'I'd give anything to know...'

"Do you really mean it?"

Leon's instincts flared at the sudden sound of an unfamiliar voice. Faster than he could think, he automatically raised his hand to summon a Fira spell and sent it flying at the direction of the sound as he stumbled onto his feet.

The speaker, a flash of black and purple, cackled manically as it easily somersaulted to dodge the flaming projectile. Not wanting to waste mana, Leon refrained from sending another spell at the creature but kept his guard up and never let his eyes stray. Inwardly cussing for leaving Revolver in the castle, he let magic flow through him, ready to be utilized should a need arise.

The black-and-purple mess straightened up from its crouch in the ground to form a tall, slender man. He was wearing a purple tuxedo suit with luxurious-looking black silk linen. The matching top-hat was decorated with a turquoise satin lace and peacock feathers, and he was wearing turquoise leather gloves to complement the headpiece. Over his face he wore a unique black jubilee mask in shape of two swan wings, and from the eye holes gleamed two glimmering golden yellow eyes. Below the mask, a mischievous grin danced on the thin, pale lips. Those eyes measured Leon up like he was a prize possession.

A small, unnoticed breath of surprise left Leon. How the hell had he not noticed he had been tailed?! Had he been that deep in thought? And what's with this guy? Forcing down his initial surprise, Leon fixed a hard stare into those shamelessly exploring eyes.

"Who are you?"

The figure chuckled, his amusement apparent. From the tone Leon understood the man had been expecting the question.

"Who indeed... I go by many names, but in the end, does it really matter? After all, does naming the object change its nature? Is it not my business here you require rather than my branding?"

"Cut the crap! Answer the question," Leon spat, tensing up slightly. For some reason, this stranger made him feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was the way the man had sneaked upon him, maybe the ludicrous attire, but... as Leon's eyes roamed over the other, they again and again returned to gaze into those alluring golden eyes. Mesmerizing, yet an undertone of cunning.

The man snorted in an amused way. "Very well. If it brings you any conciliation, you can call me... Jester. You can also call me by any other name you want, I do not care either way." The grin on those lips spread into a smirk, and Leon gulped quietly. This man was unnerving him.

"What do you want?"

"The question remains, what you?" Jester's satin voice mused as he removed his hat and bowed, his eyes never leaving the brunette's.

This threw Leon off a little. What did he want? Unprompted, the faces of his comrades flashed in his mind, the painful memory returning with an inward wince. He knew what he wanted, but...

_Do you really mean it?_ Leon's eyes widened as what had distracted him in the first place returned to him, and a small gasp escaped from him. Could it be that... this man knew something about them? And as he snapped his gaze back into the golden eyes, the feral gleam in them combined with that now predatory smirk told him enough. Struck speechless, Leon's lower lip trembled slightly as he tried to find the words. What finally came out was more muttering out loud than actual speech: meant as think-aloud but considered communication.

"How do you...?"

"Know? Know about what, Squall Leonhart? About how you long for your former friends? Or about how you strive to change the past, yet lack the means and might to do so? Or perhaps about how infuriating it is that your friends' comrade has returned from Darkness, and yet you have no clue whether or not yours are still alive?" Leon's shocked expression told Jester everything he needed to know and his smirk widened to Cheshire Cat proportions.

A shiver ran down Leon's spine, as he ogled at the mysterious character. To regain some composure, he blinked a few times and snapped his slack jaw tight. Eyes narrow and interrogative, he glared at the man. His voice like ice, Leon hissed,

"_Who _are you?"

"I am your means, Leon. Your 'answer'. You seek a way to change the past, correct? The question is, how badly do you want it? How great of a price are you willing to pay?"

"I..." Leon's voice left him. He knew what Jester was doing. But he couldn't believe it.

"Just believe it," came an airy, amused comment, and Leon couldn't help a shocked expression flashing on his face. So this bastard did read... "Your mind. Yes, I do." Jester's voice was deceptively pleasant. "There is nothing I do not know about you now, Squall."

"That doesn't give me any reason to trust you," Leon spat.

"I suppose you are right. But I am not offering you trust, am I? All I am offering is anything you want. You are, after all, willing to give anything to reach that which you desire, yes? Or..." Jester held a meaningful pause and a glimmer of wickedness danced amongst the gold, "–was that nothing but empty talk?"

Leon sucked in a sharp breath. Every instinct in him screamed 'trap'. He considered walking away. It would sound like reason. But...

'Rinoa...'

But he was being offered the answers. Perhaps he'd finally find out the truth about his world and the fate of his friends. Leon wasn't stupid enough to trust Jester, but the man had ignited a fire deep in his heart that had now grown into a flame. But how much would he be willing to risk to find out the truth? How great of a price was this clown asking of him?

_I'd give anything..._

"No," Leon replied, his voice deep and solemn, "I'd give anything. My friends – name your price."

The Cheshire Cat grin was back on the thin lips. Jester licked them like he was savoring something delicious. "Very well. As I am sure you have already deduced, I read you like a book. A real classic, I might add. You wish to find out what became of your comrades, especially of that lovely woman, Rinoa. Also, I am sure you know by now such valuable information is going to cost you. I do not aim to be unreasonable, though."

Jester chuckled before extending his skinny arm. In an instant, a grayish black portal of swirling smoke solidified a few feet from Leon. A meaningful raise of a delicate corner of his mouth.

"What's this?" Leon demanded in a low voice.

"Simple. On the other side lie the answers you seek, as well as... expenditure. You are willing to give anything, right? Survive, and you shall come to find what you are looking for." Jester's tone was so airy he could have as well been talking about sundaes and rainbows.

"Wait, what–"

"Now, goodbye!"

The air was struck out of Leon as an invisible hand forcibly threw him towards and through the dark portal. The hollow echo of his startled yell died away with the remains of the closing portal. A dark chuckle rumbled in the throat of the slender man and he mused quietly,

"And good luck, lion boy."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:**** Ugh, I really don't like the way this chapter turned out! It's so... plain somehow. I guess I kinda rushed it just to finish it. :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Leon (Squall Leonhart), Square Enix does. I'm also making no financial profit by writing this story.**

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><p><strong><span>Part 2<span>**

The air was still, windless, and smelled of age, earth and dust. The space was lit with torches and ornate lanterns hanging from the ceiling, and the innumerable shadows cast by the scarce lighting danced in the gaps and hollows of the inscriptions on the stone walls.

_Thud_.

A heavy weight collided with the cool stone with an audible groan of pain. The nerve was hit, and Leon hissed lowly as sharp ache pulsated from his elbow, irradiating all over his right arm. He struggled to sit on his knees, pressing his arm against his chest for dear life, waiting the pain to ease away. It did, after a short while. Leon's intense grip loosened as the feeling weakened and weakened. He shook his arm, tentatively at first to make sure no bones were broken, then more fiercely to help the blood flow.

As the ache reduced into pin-prickles, the brunette finally really took in his surroundings. Stone walls surrounded him on all sides except in front of him laid a long corridor. The walls themselves emitted a very faint green glow that gave the stone a shade of life. There were engravings and inscriptions on the walls. Some of them were nothing but shapes – of plants, symbols, landscapes. But some seemed to resemble characters, people, even faces. Leon's eyes lingered on the stone-carved features of a woman. She must have been a royal; her clothing looked exquisite and she wore an intricate headdress. Her head was disproportionately big in contrast to her body. He was captivated by the figure, and as his gaze moved over her features, it stopped to her eyes. They looked very real. Real, and inviting. Suddenly Leon got an ill feeling that those eyes were looking back at him.

The warrior was ensured when the eyes blinked.

He stumbled onto his feet quickly, staggering a couple of steps away from the mural. He immediately readied himself to cast a spell and defend himself. However, nothing was heard but his breaths; no other living thing stirred but him. Not letting his guard down entirely, Leon relaxed a little, but his hawk eyes kept sweeping the space. The eerie glow emitting from the walls didn't do much to help Leon to get comfortable with his surroundings. He sensed life, clearly, but not the breathing kind, and it made something inside him jerk.

'What is this place?' Leon thought. 'Where did that bastard send me?'

"Jester?" he called out. "Jester!"

"Yyeeeeesssssss?" came the loud, demonic hissing – Leon flinched and covered his ears under the onslaught of the booming voice. He felt miniscule under that voice. It was so loud, so demonic. A brief flashback of a witch with a high-pitched and unnaturally loud voice; it shook him down to his core.

As the voice faded away, Leon regained his composure. "What the hell is going on?! Where am I?"

A dark chuckle.

"You are in my, shall we say, sandbox, little lion," it slithered in malicious delight.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Leon bit back.

"What indeed... I could tell you exactly, but that knowledge would be of no use to you and of no profit for me to share, so you will just have to be satisfied with knowing that I control anything and everything in this place, its construction and even the very air you are breathing." At that, Leon felt his lungs getting tight as his oxygen supply was cut off. He tried to breathe but there was nothing to inhale! On an instinct he grabbed his chest as his eyes watered and knees buckled under him, leaving him gaping, desperately fighting to stay conscious. "See?" The air came to be again, and Leon drew it in with voracious gasps. His entire body shook; a lone pained tear streaked down his cheek. He was down on all fours, panting heavily.

'Shit!' Shit, that was horrifying. He really had thought he'd die. A shudder shook him at the recollection of the pain, of the burn in his lungs not a minute ago. A gag loomed in Leon's stomach as he understood what that little demonstration had been about. It was about power. That Leon was completely at his mercy in this place. A small shudder ran down his spine; he didn't like feeling that vulnerable. He was _never _vulnerable! In between his pants and an occasional cough, he spat out:

"Alright... Alright, I get it. Your rules. So what do you want me to do?!" 'Asshole', he thought adding, but bit his tongue before that happened. He didn't want to risk a retake of the previous incident. Not quite this soon at least.

"Now that was not very polite, Mr. Leonhart." Jester sounded like he'd reprimanded a small child. Leon gulped involuntarily. "I should kill you for that insolent attitude of yours, but if I killed my plaything then who would keep me entertained," the voice practically purred.

Leon's temper flared. "Cut the crap! What do you want with me?!"

"Very well. Look around you; what do you see?"

Was that a trick question? "... Stone walls," Leon muttered as he got onto his feet.

A chuckle. "Not the sharpest tool in the shed, I can tell..." Leon winced. "Look closely."

"Huh?" And he looked. On the walls covered in luminescent carvings were torches lit with a flame Leon assumed wasn't real but a spell of some kind. The glow of the fire felt natural, though, which comforted him a bit. On the floor, there were small objects – coins, little sticks, animal bones – and here and there small stones and rubble. And– Leon's eyes widened! At a edge of light only partially visible in torchlight sat in a crumbled heap a human skeleton. He hadn't noticed it until now.

"Please do not mind him," came a chuckle. "He is merely a former guest of mine. And quite a rude one at that, I might add. It seems like he has come to stay!" Jester chuckled quietly, and Leon wished to god he could punch him!

The laughter died and a cold voice bellowed: "In this place are stored the reflections of the worlds that have succumbed to Darkness. Even yours. Your heart leads you closer to that which it most desires. It is here where you may find your light, no matter how dim it is. That is, if it is really what your heart desires."

A quiet gasp left the stoic warrior.

"Look for your friends. Should you find what you seek, I am not to stop you. Whatever you may find is the truth. However–," Leon's jaw tightened. The risen tone of the clown left him to expect a catch, "There is a little something you will do for me in exchange." The voice chuckled quietly.

Leon snorted, waiting for Jester to continue. He sensed the clown wanted him to ask what was to become of him, and he wasn't going to give him that pleasure.

Indeed, in a little while, an impatient snort rumbled in the stone walls, then a low chuckle before the malicious voice spoke again. "There are going to be a series of trials. In order to find your light– actually, let that be a topic for a further discussion." The low chuckle faded, and Leon felt a rush of panic.

"Wait–! What kind of trials?! How the hell am I supposed to fight without a weapon?!"

"Oh, I am sure a seasoned warrior like you will think of something, hehe... The rules are very simple. Everything you see you can use in any way you see fit. But everything you _do not_ see is my game."

"Meaning?"

"My, Leon! You are a spoil sport, are you not? Should I tell you, now where would be the surprise?"

Leon snarled.

"Oh, there is but one thing."

"Just spill it!" the brunet barked.

"Try not to die." The voice was smiling. Leon's stomach turned in anticipation.

The warrior's palm scraped along a curve of one of the endless murals. On his other hand, he held a torch he had yoinked from a torch holder how many moments ago? He was walking cautiously along that same, seemingly endless corridor.

'How big is this place?' he thought. 'I must have walked at least two kilometers already.'

He continued merely a few meters before something formed in the distance. The closer he got to it, all the more clearly he realized he was facing a dead-end. The cool stone was carved, like all the others, but this time there was no clear figure, merely shapes and ornaments, of which Leon was silently grateful. Having a wall staring at you is rather unnerving, a seasoned warrior or not.

But as he got closer, he noticed that it wasn't a dead-end but a corner. It seemed that to his left was some kind of a space – 'perhaps a room, or just another corridor,' he mulled over. But what caught his attention was a dull shine unlike that of the walls. A handle shaped like a ring was hanging from the invisible ceiling by a chain that was as thick as Leon's wrist. His brows furrowed.

Until suddenly his instincts flared at a creaking sound. It was like a giant had crushed entire tanks in its jaws. A sound of something _turning_ alarmed him of danger.

Leon had already leaped to grab the handle by the time the floor trap activated and the floor disappeared. Blood rushed in Leon's ears as he gazed down into the emptiness. There was something _moving_ in there. Something _big_. Leon could see yellow eyes shaped like diamonds, only narrower. There were dozens, and he couldn't help but wonder just what the hell was down there and how many eyes did belong to each creature. He was relieved when the trap door closed again, sealing away the hungry, awaiting stare of dozens of yellow eyes.

Leon jumped down from the handle and immediately threw himself onto what he assumed was safe ground. He breathed a heavy sigh of awe. 'That must have been what that jackass meant by "trials",' he thought. 'Asshole! I can't trust in anything in here!'

Picking himself up from the ground, he studied the floor carefully, and exactly where he remembered, there were the faintest outlines of the trapdoor. The lines blended into the solid rock so well that from afar, it was very difficult to notice them. Even now, in the inadequate lighting, Leon was struggling to see them.

Shit...! But there was nothing to gain from worrying. He couldn't stay here. If this was but one of many challenges he was to face, who was to tell this place was any safer than where he currently was. Besides, although he wasn't reckless, it went against his nature being afraid. He was a soldier, he'd had his life in danger before. What was so different about this time?

Well, he hadn't been exactly planning on spending his day playing literal Sudden Death with a masked magician with sadistic intent.

Groaning, Leon went to snatch a new torch from the wall. He had lost his previous one into the pit. Carefully he approached the corner, his eyes scanning the walls for any potential hidden traps. The murals looked like they could easily hide a trap mechanism. Leon halfway expected a rain of arrows to come out and deck the walls with his blood.

The brunet's heart fell a little when he peered around the corner. Whatever he had been expecting – a lurking monster, probably – it wasn't "nothing". In front of his eyes opened a corridor just like the one he had been in previously, but even now he could see that this one split into two. About 20 meters from where he was now seemed to be a dark caving that could only be another corner leading into probably yet another empty corridor.

Leon's eyes widened at that. Oh, god! This wasn't just any sandbox.

"It's a maze..." Leon mused out loud. 'And somewhere in here are my friends.' Suddenly Jester's predicaments made much more sense. He could end up wandering in here until he would die of hunger and still found nothing. Or, if it was as Leon had begun to suspect and time or sustenance really didn't matter here, he could end up walking forever.

Suddenly Leon was a lot less a warrior and a lot more an ordinary coward fearing for his life.


End file.
